| | I don't know how I survived the last three years. I'd been thrown around, kicked, choked, dragged, thrown out of my own home, flung beer at, had my door broken and belongings thrown, and consistently screamed at. I'd been rejected for a traitor friend, only to be stupid enough to take him back, several times, like a stupid dog, after his offenses. I'd been kept from going to school, going to work, and from spending time with my family.
Yet I still feel hurt when I hear Snow Patrol's "Chasing Cars."
I know it was one of the worst situations I could put myself in. I knew better, but was too naive to accept it. When I was younger, with Karolyn, I'd urge her to leave a boy that was mistreating her. I couldn't even do that myself. I didn't, for most of that time, have the resources to leave. For awhile I thought he did those because I deserved it from provoking him. In reality, his responses were inappropriate. I'm not a child for him to punish; I am an adult woman, supposed to be his emotional support, not some toy or aggression bag.
All these I have to un-learn. It's NOT justified for a man to scream at you, no matter what the context. I lost those three years, years I could have used to achieve a degree.
He never told me I was beautiful, nor did he ever tell me he loved me (I should never have to consistently initiate it). Instead, he ignored me, insulted me, accused me of things I did not do. When we were living on our own, what little money we even had and instead of trying to stretch what we had, he spent it on alcohol, marijuana, and cigarettes. I still paid when we were out, contradictory to his duty as a man. He would not open the door for me, nor would he offer to carry my things when it looked obvious I was struggling. He criticized me. He wouldn't protect me; when I was insulted by other people, he did nothing to protect my honor. I received no fresh red roses on anniversary days, instead I was shoved aside and/or forgotten. At major operations, he was absent. I was alone in those years. He provided me no comfort, no emotional support.
And now that we have been long over, he harasses me. If he truly loved me, he wouldn't have done the things he did. If he truly cared, he wouldn't say what he says to me; instead he would show that he cared, hoping that my new flame treat me better than he did. A mature, kind man would wish the best for me, not condemn and insult me; wish that he provide for me what he obviously could not.
You got a fast car
But is it fast enough so we can fly away
We gotta make a decision
We leave tonight or live and die this way
I remember we were driving driving in your car
The speed so fast I felt like I was drunk
City lights lay out before us
And your arm felt nice wrapped 'round my shoulder
And I had a feeling that I belonged
And I had a feeling I could be someone, be someone, be someone
-Tracy Chapman, "Fast Car" |
| | Posted 9/20/2008 11:26 PM - 27 Views - 0 eProps - 0 comments
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